


(I'll Be Running) 'Til the Love Runs Out

by redkislington



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Derek definitely isn't the greatest incubus, Derek feeds off of Hugs and Companionship, Derek isn't the greatest Incubus, Incubus Derek, M/M, Stiles is completely oblivious to Derek staring at him all the time, Why am I starting a new series, and also Derek being stupidly stupid over him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:54:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1670402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redkislington/pseuds/redkislington
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's life was simple. Easy. Uncomplicated. He starts feeling that gnawing hunger start to creep in he spends some time with Erica, or goes home for a little bit and cuddles for a few hours until he feels better. That is, until he catches the sweetest scent, making him want so badly to give in and take. </p><p>Stiles Stilinski, however, is completely oblivious to any incubus craving him. Though, maybe, eventually he'll catch on a little bit, and he may or may not tease said incubus when he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can't remember where I found the tumblr post that inspired this... But it's out there somewhere! Sorry, whoever you are. :(
> 
> Title is taken from One Republic - Love Runs Out

_Oh._

 

That... was it. The only thought crossing Derek's mind. Just one, single, small, innocent word.

 

Yet...

 

He rubbed his sweaty palms against his jeans, and started off toward the check out line. He was not going to have a complete meltdown in the middle of Whole Foods. He was not. Just because the most perfect, sexy, sweet smelling person just walked into the store, dressed in maroon jeans that looked to be painted on, a dark, well-worn t-shirt with a shield on it, and moles.

 

Dear god, he had _all_ the moles.

 

He realized he was full out running by the time he was skidding to a stop in front of the first open register he could find. The old lady in front of him glared. He couldn't really care, because the guy of his Dreams was currently walking toward him, grinning. Oh god, _oh god_ , _**ohmygod**_. He was going to die. He was going to hyperventilate and die.

 

The One strutted across the store, then moved right on past Derek, to a young employee, who had a bag with him and looked tired. Dream pulled the employee into a hug, and Derek irrationally felt hurt seeing how happy they looked together. He sighed and turned forward, only to see that he was up next. He dumped his things out of the basket and paid without really looking to see how much, and left as fast as his feet could carry him.

 

When he got out to his car, Derek realized he was starving, and not for food. “Fuck me.” He cursed, and somewhere deep inside, that little smartass teen inside of him was dying from laughter. He threw his groceries into the back of his Camaro and sped out of the parking lot, driving toward Erica's.

 

 

“Oh, so you really think...?” Erica trailed off, continuing to curl her fingers lovingly through his hair. He felt better now, satisfied in the barest sense. But... Dream Guy had ruined him. He wasn't ever going to be truly satisfied, filled to the brim with energy from loving touches, unless it came from him. Which... probably wasn't going to happen.

 

He huffed; he figured his parent's were just being sappy, as usual, when they told him that true love would be the most fulfilling thing he'd taste in all his life. Not that... Dream Guy was his true love. Or that 'L' word should in any way be associated with him.

 

...Oh who was he kidding.

 

“Mmhmm.” Derek pouted, and Erica sighed. She sat up then, shifting so his head went from resting in her lap to the cushion. She patted his thigh and looked over him for a few moments before she tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Do you want me to make you some cocoa?”

 

Derek whined. He really shouldn't. He wouldn't be able to get as full from love and sex as before, so human food would just do his body worse, but... “Do you have those cinnamon marshmallows?”

 

Erica grinned. “And whole milk and cinnamon sticks. I'll get your mug.”

 

 

Much later, after Derek had drunken two full mugs of cocoa, and Erica was sending him off with a pat on the back and a scolding that if he were to ever see the man again he should introduce himself at least rather than run away.

 

Yeah, he was sure he'd see him again. Not... He ducked down into his car, shifting into gear, when he caught that scent again. Honey-sweet and almost tart on his tongue, with just a little bite of bitterness, that only seemed to sweeten it up further. Derek's hand loosened around the gear shift and he closed his eyes, letting his mouth hang open as he breathed, and breathed...

 

There was a tapping on his window, and he jumped, startled, automatically going to roll it down, only to have that scent crash over him like a wave. His mouth flooded with drool and he looked up, knowing exactly who he'd see.

 

“Um, you're in my spot.” Dreamy said, giving Derek a shy smile. He nodded over to the sign hanging over the overhang he was parked under, that Derek hadn't bothered to even glance at in his hurry. “Residents only. And, I don't believe I've ever seen you around here.” He grinned. “I think I'd remember. But... yeah, this is the place I usually park, so...”

 

Derek stared, gripping the wheel tightly just to stop himself from jumping out at the man and kissing the life out of him. The man waited a few moments, blinking at him once, his smile falling as he took Derek in. “Hey, you alright? You look a little pale...” He reached out, and before Derek could realize what he was doing and pull away, soft, cool fingers brushed against his heated skin, sending volts of electricity up his arm. He moaned, curling in around his arm, then groaned.

 

“I- Sorry, for... Won't happen again.” Derek muttered, then slammed his car into reverse and sped out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell.

 

He was fucked. So fucked. Royally, regally f-u-c-k-e-d.

 

Derek pulled haphazardly into the space in front of his apartment, and then practically ripped off his jacket, flinging it into the back seat of the Camaro, and then started running around the neighborhood to work off the currents of energy that felt like they were going to overflow out of his pores.

 

By the time he got back, twenty-four laps and one and a half hours later, he realized he had two-hundred dollars worth of groceries in the trunk, sun-baked and ruined.

 

“Perfect.” He muttered, gathering all the bags up and dumping them in the dumpsters at the edge of the complex, and trudged up stairs to his floor. He stumbled into his apartment, and took the few steps to the bed before he fell face first into it and passed out.

 

 

The next morning found Derek curled up in bed, still feeling full and satiated. He didn't understand it. How could one little touch from a complete stranger fill him so fully? He licked his lips, ran his hand through his hair and untangled himself from his sheets.

 

He showered, pulling on the first clothes he could grab and then set out again. He still needed groceries and he had the energy of what felt like a million suns pulsing through him. Staying inside he would just end up tearing up the place.

 

And maybe, he was hoping of running into that man again. Just a little bit.

 

 

Stiles gnawed on the end of his pen as he worked through his essay, fingers running away from him. He frowned, pausing, and squinting at his laptop. Werewolves. Really? He sighed and started backspacing until he got back to where he'd left off, before he was going on about Lycanthropy and it's history in legend and the media. Last time he stays up watching Chiller...

 

The door swung open behind him, blowing in a chilling breeze. Stiles shivered, then looked up to see who had walked in, then gaped.

 

The man from last night, the hot one who'd parked in his space, waltzed in, hips swaying, looking like a completely new man. His skin had a healthy glow to it, versus the pale white he was wearing the other day, and his lips were curled in a small smirk as he walked up to the counter. The Barista looked like she was about to faint. Stiles looked him over, taking in how his skinny jeans looked to be painted on, and his tank top looked about two and a half seconds from ripping apart. He couldn't exactly blame her.

 

When he spoke it was smooth, his voice sounding like liquid sex, rough but not deep, throaty but high pitched, higher than Stiles anyway. The voice didn't really fit the body, but really it just made him that much more attractive.

 

Thoroughly distracted from his essay, Stiles slowly slipped his laptop shut as he watched the man walk around the counter, licking his lips. Ohmygod, that... he should call the police, cause that has GOT to be illegal. Biting his own lips Stiles watched the man take his coffee – complete with whip cream and caramel sauce – and walk through the store... right toward him!

 

Panicking, Stiles flailed around, whipping open his laptop to attempt to look busy and make it seem like he was not at all staring at this guy the entire time since he'd walked in. He clumsily typed in his password when his lock screen came up, fumbling as a message popped up saying it was the wrong password. Then the man was there, looming over him, and Stiles felt like the air had been sucked out of his body.

 

He glanced up, and the man smiled at him, bright and wide, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Hey.” He whispered, voice low, then nodded to the seat across from him. “Can I...?”

 

Stiles nodded, maybe just a tad bit too enthusiastically, then concentrated on unlocking his laptop as the man slid sinfully into the bench, almost like he was pouring himself into the seat, the movement fluid and smooth. Stiles felt his mouth go dry as he watched through his peripheral vision, and resolutely stared at his still locked screen, determined not to stare at the man like an idiot.

 

His long, thick fingers curled around his cup delicately, clearing his throat when Stiles didn't speak, or move, or really even breathe. “So... Um, about last night?”

 

Stiles' brain, despite how much of a bad, bad idea it was in public, went back to last night, that moment of Stiles' fingers brushing against the man's cold skin, sending a shock through his fingertips. The moan that seemed to rip out of the man like it was pulled from the deepest regions of his body.

 

Stiles choked back his own groan and nodded, shifting in his seat as he spoke. “What, er, what about it?”

 

The man blushed then, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck as he hummed, closing his eyes in thought. Then he looked up again, seeming to reconsider his approach as he held his hand out. “I'm Derek.”

 

Derek. Stiles restrained himself from saying his name out loud, tasting it and letting it roll off his tongue. Instead, he grinned, taking Derek's hand, gently this time as apposed to the quick but soft touch from last night. Still, Derek stiffened, biting his lower lip to keep sound in. “Stiles.”

 

Derek slipped his fingers away and nodded. “Stiles.” His name practically rolled from the man's tongue, his tongue curling sinfully against his teeth. Stiles repressed a shudder, but just barely. “So, um, about last night, I'm sorry about taking your spot I just had a crisis, needed to meet with a friend.” He shrugged. “I wasn't paying attention to where I was at the moment.”

 

Stiles felt his heart stutter at the little lost look the man wore for a moment. He nodded, wanting to reach out and cradle him to his chest and hum a silly little love song like his mom used to do for him whenever he got upset. He shook the thought away, though, and smiled softly. “I get it. It's fine.”

 

Derek grinned, his eyes crinkling in the corners, and dear god Stiles could die at that smile. He cleared his throat, drumming his fingers against the lid of his own, empty, cup. “So... since you already have a cup of coffee, and taking you out for one would be a little redundant, how would you feel to coming out with me to lunch?”

 

Wow. Now where did that bravery come from Stilinski? Granted, he was stupidly brave all those times he gave Lydia long written long notes, and that one horrific time he tried to read poetry in front of the whole school – before she was snapping out of her seat in the cafeteria and yanking him by the ear to a quieter part of the room to tell him to stop trying.

 

This, though, seemed to be going a lot better than any of his useless attempts with Lydia. Especially given how Derek's smile seemed to double, his soft pink tongue dipping out to lick at his lips and his dark eyelashes fluttering over his pale cheeks as he cast his eyes down to the table in thought. Stiles felt his heart stop for a few seconds, before Derek finally looked up after what felt like an eternity, and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.”

 

Stiles couldn't help it, he broke into a wide grin, part in disbelief that this gorgeous man actually agreed to voluntarily spend more time with him after talking with him for more than five minutes. Mostly in just pure relief that, if he were standing, he'd collapse. Still feeling a little brave, he held his hand out, uncapping his pen in his mouth and raising his eyebrows. Derek hesitated for a moment, then gave Stiles his hand, shivers running through his skin and his breath hitching when their skin touched. Stiles felt his palm heat up from Derek's too-warm skin, and he scribbled down his phone number. He gathered his things before he chickened out and winked at Derek, who was staring at his palm like he was holding something small and precious in it that he couldn't stand to be destroyed, and grinned. “Text me where to meet you.”

 

Then, he rushed out, hoping it didn't look like he was scrambling away like he had rabid dogs on his heels, and pumped his fists in the air, startling the little old lady walking by. Blushing, he mumbled an apology and practically ran to his car to celebrate more. Stiles Stilinski officially had a date with the hottest dude he'd ever seen in Beacon Hills.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has a crisis about the date, and there's a brief glimpse into his past. The boys go on their date and Erica gets extraordinary amounts of gossip for Derek's sisters regarding their brother's new boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UGH sorry this took so long. For right now, this isn't really formatted properly, but I should have all that fixed tomorrow after work.

Derek stared at his palm, his knees drawn up to his chest as he sat in his apartment, not dressed or showered or anything. Granted, he already took a shower this morning but... you could never be too clean, right? Or... would Stiles – Stiles, his name was Stiles, so unique and delicious as he spoke it – have a limit to how clean his potential mates could be. What if he thought Derek was a clean freak?

 

You're panicking. He could hear his mom saying it. He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it out, feeling himself relax a little. No, this was just a date. A simple, little, date. People have dates all the time. No big deal.

 

Incubus' don't really have dates, though. We seduce, but we don't have dates.

 

Swallowing, Derek shook his head. He had no idea what he was doing. What was he thinking, going on a date with Stiles? He should've just taken him. That would've been so much simpler.

 

But... no, it wouldn't have been simpler. Stiles was human. He had no clue what Derek was, just what he was capable of. Derek just stealing him away with his powers and keeping him hostage wouldn't have worked, as fun as they'd have for the first few days.

 

Frowning, Derek picked up the phone, dialing in a number and waiting for them to pick up.

 

“Derek?” Laura answered, sounding a little confused.

 

Unable to help himself, Derek just blurted everything out. “Laur, I have no idea what I'm doing. I have no idea how to date someone. Why did I ever think a date would be a good idea, it's not a good idea. He's gonna find out what I am, and then he's going to run away screaming but maybe he won't but if he does then I'm in trouble but I really think he's the one but I have no idea how to interact with someone in a romantic way like a normal person. Just the supernatural way and if I do that it's not fair to him but I don't know what else to do and I really need your help.”

 

Laura was silent for a while, long enough for Derek to start panicking all over again. Then finally, she spoke. “Well, you're... dating?” She sounded surprised. Not that Derek could blame her. He hadn't dated ever in his life, that was usual among their kind though. He was only an oddball because he refused to feed on the sexual energy of people, like all other incubus. Have my reasons...

 

Clearing his throat, suddenly feeling really embarrassed, Derek shrugged. “Yeah. He asked and I just... said yes.”

 

Laura hummed, sounding like she was trying to sound bored but instead she was really interested. “Well, dating isn't that hard. It's just two people having fun and getting to know each other. Talk with him. I'm going to go ahead and assume this is your first date together so don't go anywhere too fancy. Go somewhere simple. If everything works out go... bowling or something. Or talk with him to find out what he likes to do and do that.”

 

Bowling... Her advice was bowling. And talking. Derek swallowed; both... not exactly his greatest skills. “Laura...” He whined, only to be cut off.

 

“Don't you whine at me, Der. You've dug yourself this hole and now you're gonna live in it.” She said, just a little bit too cheerfully, right before she hung up.

 

Derek gave a frustrated sigh and tossed his phone down into his bed.

 

He chewed on his lip, staring at his phone for a few moments before deciding to sweep his problems under the rug for now (or forever) and tugged on a pair of track pants and a tank top before rushing out of the apartment, jogging down the street into town. Maybe he could scout out what places looked like they'd be good for dates... Derek, despite himself, thought, pausing every few moments to peer into bustling restaurants and cafes.

 

So screwed. Derek thought to himself as he found what seemed like the perfect little place; a small, not too flashy but still nice looking and date appropriate – from what he assumed. He scribbled down the address and name on his arm and started jogging back home. Maybe he wasn't a total lost cause...

 

His steps stuttering, Derek frowned, shaking off the thought. No, he was moving on from that, he was going to get Stiles, do things the right way, and everything would be fine.

 

Still, as he was running up the stairs to his floor, he couldn't shake away the memory of blonde curls and an angry, mean sneer. Glossed lips spitting out words like knives. Pathetic, lost cause, worthless waste of air and space.

 

The words went on and on, repeating like a sharp, stabbing tempest around him. He ran through the apartment, feeling like there was a vice closing tighter and tighter around his chest.

 

“It's alright.”

 

Just like that, the words were gone. Derek paused, his hand trembling against the doorway to the bathroom.

 

“It's fine.” The same voice said, reassuring and soft. “You're alright.”

 

Stiles' voice replaced the familiar hateful words swirling around his brain, turning every insult into a softly spoken reassurance. Reminding himself to breathe again, Derek slowly backed into the hall, turning to his bedroom and walking over to his bed where his phone lay.

 

With Stiles' voice fading, leaving behind a calm, emptiness inside of him, Derek queued up Stiles' number and sent him the address for the cafe he found earlier, what seemed like days ago. Shaking his head, Derek dropped the phone back to the mussed sheets and padded across the hall to start the shower. He wouldn't think about how odd it was that it was Stiles' voice pulling him out of the familiar cycle he'd gone through. About how no one else had been able to pull him back before, even when they were there with him physically.

 

No, Derek would just get ready for his date and not dwell on the past and especially not dwell on the fact that soul mates were looking even more likely now.

 

 

“Okay dude, it's cool, it's all fine and cool.” Stiles muttered, staring hopelessly at the pile of rejected clothes lying across his bed, the pile that just got bigger as he looked deeper into his closet. “Just... I never thought I'd have to dress up for a date ever, that's all.” He huffed, why was every shirt he owned a holey or really worn out? Why didn't he ever buy new clothes? “Gotta be something in here...”

 

After another few minutes, Stiles found a dark gray v-neck, shoved toward the back of the closet, that he knew he'd only worn once in his life. He tugged on his nicest jeans along with it, form-fitting maroon skinny jeans. Maybe not the most comfortable but certainly the most attractive on him, considering his lack of muscle. A glance at his phone told him he still had a few minutes until he had to leave, so he rushed over to the bathroom to fuss with his hair a little bit.

 

He debated his bottle of gel but decided against it. He didn't want to look like he was trying too hard. He mussed up his hair with a little water and his fingers though, just enough to make it look a little suggestive. Maybe tempt Derek into messing it up himself. He grinned to himself, glanced at the time again, then stumbled over to the bedroom again to pull on his Converse and then practically ran out of the apartment, grabbing his keys before he left.

 

He got to the address a few minutes earlier than their planned meeting time, so Stiles waited in his car for a few moments, staring out the window to the quaint little cafe. It looked like a nice, family owned place, a large window in the front painted to advertise homemade pies and breads, baked daily, and meals to remind you of home. Stiles smiled softly, wondering if maybe Derek knew the owners, or maybe even if they were part of his family. He checked the time, then let out a breath. Derek should probably be here by now. He stepped out and gave himself one last look over and walked in. The inside seemed just as he imagined it would. A little cramped, and loud, he could hear the cooks talking from hear, and the smell of cinnamon and cream sort of permeating the place.

 

A young woman, probably around his age, gave him a look, then a little smirk as she dropped the curl of blonde hair she'd been playing with since he walked in the door. “Hey honey. Table for one?”

 

Stiles looked up at her, then glanced past her to see if he could find Derek at one of the tables behind her. “Erm, no, I'm supposed to meet someone here.” He frowned when he couldn't see Derek anywhere. “He's a little bit taller than me, dark hair and hazel eyes? Built like a Greek God?”

 

The woman raised her brows, whether at his description of Derek or the mention he was meeting a guy, he didn't know. “Sorry, no Greek Gods in yet. I could get you all set up though, if you want?”

 

Not here yet, huh...? Pushing down the little flicker of doubt and disappointment, Stiles nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah, that'd be great, thanks.”

 

The girl, Erica as she introduced herself, nodded, gathering up two menu's and bundles of silverware, showed him to a small table near the back of the cafe, dimly lit and intimate. As soon as Erica walked away, Stiles immediately checked his phone to see if he got any message from Derek, maybe about traffic or anything that would delay him. Nothing.

 

Maybe he realized that he deserved more than me. Maybe he figured out I'm not worth his time... Maybe...

 

Before he could get much deeper into his little hole of self doubt, though, Erica was walking back to him, grinning, and there was Derek, trailing behind her, looking a little nervous. He was dressed in a muscle-hugging black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and painted-on black jeans. Stiles felt his mouth watering at the sight of him.

 

“I found your Greek God here.” Erica crowed, looking entirely too pleased with herself. Derek seemed to agree, because he shot her a wary look, and she just grinned, taking their drink orders before she sashayed off into the kitchen.

 

Derek slid into the seat across from Stiles, a pleasant red flush to his cheeks, and... oh, wow, he must be wearing some kind of cologne, something... sweet. Stiles licked his lips, he could almost taste that sweet scent coming off of Derek in waves. “I was almost afraid you weren't going to show.” He blurted out before he could stop himself. Damn, must be that scent...

 

Derek, though, just looked surprised. “Really?” He gave a small smile, tilting his head. “What made you think that?”

 

Stiles shrugged. “Look at you. You look like you walked out of a magazine cover? Me? I look like... well, not much.”

 

Derek looked almost offended, but he didn't say anything. Stiles was just getting ready to take back his words or change the subject when he finally seemed to find his words. “Not much? Really? I've never seen anyone who looked quite like you. You look... I...” He paused when Erica came walking back, taking a little bit more time than necessary to place their drinks down and take their orders before she walked away again. Derek sighed, seeming to have calmed down a little. “Just, trust me when I say you are entirely more than 'not much' to me.”

 

Stiles nodded, feeling a little dazed, and took a little sip of his water to hide his smile as Derek sat across from him, suddenly a little too interested in the cloth on the table and that red flush going just a shade deeper.

 

 

A few minutes after Derek's little outburst – seriously, not much, how could Stiles not see how incredibly gorgeous and unique he was? - they started talking. At first, it wasn't about much, sports and movies and such. Derek learned Stiles had played lacrosse in high school, but never really got to play outside of practice except for one instance where half the team was sick with the flu. He also found out Stiles was never really popular in school, despite being friends with a few of the more popular kids, which he attributed to a mix of his ADHD and being the son of the Sheriff.

 

Erica dropped by their table a few more times, always giving Derek these looks that he knew meant trouble. He wished he knew that Erica worked here before, or he would've never had them come here. He just knew the next time he met her without Stiles she was going to pump him for information and insist on meeting him officially. He just knew all that could come from that would be trouble. Erica would probably tell Laura and Cora everything about him afterward.

 

“So what about you?”

 

Derek looked up, blinking. Stiles was staring over at him expectantly. He gave a little smile and his scent peaked up, just a little bit, enough for Derek's mouth to water and that burning hunger he usually pushed down to come roaring to attention. He swallowed and licked his lips, smiling at Stiles, hoping he didn't look to nervous or ravenous. “What was that?”

 

Stiles grinned. “You've hardly spoken at all. I'm telling you just about everything there is to know about me. I need to know a little about you?” He paused to take a spoonful of whipped cream from the top of his sundae, licking at the spoon, making another flare of hunger for something other than food rush through Derek. “It's only fair.” He practically purred, licking away at the little drop of cream at the corner of his lips.

 

Derek swallowed, looking down at his own, half-eaten cake. He wouldn't be able to taste it anymore, he knew. It'd taste like nothing, and it wouldn't provide him anything, but make the hunger inside of him more fierce. He set his spoon back to his plate and had to take a few moments to try and shove the creature inside of him demanding him to pull Stiles over the table to take him right here deep down where he couldn't hear it. Then another moment to think of something to say. “Well... I... didn't really go to school. I mean, I did for a little while, up until middle school, then my mother taught me at home.” For reasons I hope you won't find out soon. “I had a big family; three sisters and a brother, and we also had almost all of my relatives living with us. Now we also have my older sister and her family with us, and she already has two kids and in November she'll have a third. But, needless to say, teaching all of us and having all of us at home all the time, my mother had her hands full.” He gave a small smile. “We somehow didn't drive her completely crazy.”

 

Stiles grinned. “How is it with a big family like that? I never had any siblings, and my living relatives all live in another country so visiting wasn't really an option.”

 

Derek shrugged. “Crazy. We never had any privacy. And very, very loud. It was a relief getting away from it but... I miss it sometimes.”

 

Then he just... couldn't stop himself. He talked about Laura and Cora and Moira, about how his three sisters practically ruled the house, and playing how much he hated them but the next moment he loved them as much as they drove each other nuts. Talked about his little brother Erik, and how the two of them were always running around trying to help his mother as much as they could. About his mother, who he went on about for a long time, and his dad, who he probably talked about just as much. What it was like having relatives there almost all the time – “hectic and complete and utter insanity, but I can't imagine having it any other way” - and finally about the long nights he spent talking on the phone when he first moved out.

 

Erica showed up again around the time he'd started on about that one time they all went camping into the woods near their house and he and Laura had tried and failed to scare all his siblings because he tripped on the sheet holding their disguise together, and told them it was well past closing time. “Sorry.” She smiled, actually looking apologetic. “I've tried to buy you guys as much time as I can but the boss is telling me to kick you out so we can clean up so...”

 

“Oh.” Derek glanced at his watch and blanched. It was almost two in the morning. “Shit, sorry Erica. I didn't think it was that late.” He looked over to Stiles, who was grinning, looking flushed and happy, but a little apologetic.

 

“Sorry.” He muttered, gathering his things and reaching for his wallet. Oh no he doesn't. Before Stiles could reach much further, Derek yanked wallet out and slapped two five dollar bills on the table, keeping a hold on it to pay at the front register.

 

Stiles stared over at him for a few moments. Derek shrugged. “I got it.” He smiled. “You finish gathering up your things and I'll go up and pay.”

 

Stiles nodded, smiling softly, and Derek had to look away, that long ago forgotten hunger roaring up again. He stood up from the booth and walked up to the front with Erica.

 

“So.” Oh no. “He seems nice. I don't think I've ever seen you talk so long with someone you seem to have just met.” She grinned. “Is this your first date?”

 

Derek glared, deeming not to answer. Erica just hummed, taking his silence for an answer, and typed into the register. “Forty-nine, fifty-five.” She drawled, opening her mouth to start asking more questions, but Derek could scent Stiles shifting, getting up and moving closer to them, so he pulled out three twenties, shoved them at her and told her to keep the change, then moved as far away from her as he could without actually leaving the cafe.

 

“So, what now?” Stiles asked, smelling so sweet and happy and pleasant. God, Derek could probably live on Stiles' scent alone, it seemed to permeate the air with a thick, sweet cloud of energy just when he was pleased. Just imagine when he's just had an orgasm... Derek swallowed, shaking off his thoughts, and shrugged.

 

“I... didn't really plan that far ahead.” Maybe he'd get points for telling the truth.

 

Stiles seemed to light up even more, and before Derek could blink he was taking Derek by the hand, sending a shock wave along his skin. He had to bite hard into his tongue to hold back his moan of pleasure form the feeling of that much energy pulsing through his body.

 

“I was hoping you'd say something like that!” Stiles crowed. “I want to show you something, we can take my car, if...” Stiles stuttered to a stop, suddenly nervous, releasing Derek's hand and looking up at him from under his obscene lashes. “If... that's alright with you, that is.”

 

“Yes.” Derek said, a little too quickly, he cleared his throat and smiled, nodding. “Yeah, that's fine.” He shrugged. “Erica usually takes the bus everywhere from what I know so she can borrow my car for tonight.” She knows she'd be dead if she wrecked it...

 

Stiles nodded, then hopped up into his car, Derek rushed inside to leave Erica the car key and practically ran back out to Stiles, resolutely ignoring Erica and another lithe little prep cook crowing about him getting laid.

 

“So, where are we going?” Derek asked as he hopped up into the older, obviously well-loved but probably reaching the end of it's time jeep. Stiles grinned, pulling out into the street, and once he got going, and in-between shifting gears, he reached over to hold Derek's hand. The incubus seemed content with the touching, practically purring under the warmth the little touch was filling him with.

 

Stiles winked, but didn't speak. A secret... Derek felt his lips twitch into a little smile as he watched Stiles. Where could he possibly be taking me to that's secret, and he got that excited for, on our first date?

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles' date comes to an end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long point between updates. I'm trying to work on getting everything updated, just I've been busy with work and family. If anyone is still reading this thank you and again sorry. :/

Where Stiles ended up taking them, to Derek's surprise, was a small, closed shop. It looked like it'd been closed for years, yet, also looked like it was just open a few hours ago. It was an antique and book shop, with an intricately painted window – reading _'Stilinski-Hjorth Antiques – Books – Odds and Ends' –_ and inside were shelves overflowing with books, and he saw several tiny, beautifully crafted porcelain dolls and figures lining the window, staring out to the street. 

 

“This is it.” Stiles said, looking proud of the small store. It was squeezed in between two larger, more well known clothing stores. Derek was actually a little surprised that it was still there, and that it hadn't been bought out already. Stiles flicked through the keys on his ring to find an older one, painted all over with a light blue that matched the jeep behind them, and opened the door.

 

A bell tingled above their heads as they entered, and Derek could definitely tell then that not many people had been into the shop for a long time. Dust tickled his nose as he walked further in, but, he could tell that the shop was well-loved. Each object was arranged with obvious care to the items around it. It felt like no item could do without the item next to it. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that the dust only coated the shelves below the items, each object in the shop, from the smallest figurine, to the largest grandfather clock, was clean and working.

 

Derek looked over to Stiles, a little confused, he smiled and asked. “Where are we?”

 

Stiles gave a proud, but a little sad smile. “Well... um.” He blushed a little bit, itching the back of his neck in his nervousness as he answered, meek for the first time Derek had ever seen him. “My mother started this shop, when she found out she was pregnant with me. She wanted to share her love of books and antiques with me.” He walked over to one of the book shelves, stroking lovingly down one of the spines of the older, larger books. “I've taken care of it, even though it hasn't accepted any other customers since she... um, since she passed.”

 

 _Oh..._ Derek walked over to join Stiles. He could sense the sadness pouring off the younger man in waves. Despite just getting to know Stiles tonight, he wanted to comfort him. He wasn't quite sure what would be okay, if they were in hugging territory or not, so he just rested his hand on Stiles' shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

 

Stiles grinned, turning back to Derek. “It's mostly just a storage for all the things she'd gathered over the years now. There's even a few things that I'd found, that we couldn't keep in the house.” He picked up a brass bird, turning it over in his hand a few times. Then he turned to Derek. He hesitated for a second, then grabbed Derek's hand to place the bird in it. Derek blinked up at Stiles, and brought it up to examine it. It was pretty, with intricate carvings detailing the feathers and it's beak and eyes. There was a small dent in it's bottom, but Derek thought that... the imperfection just made it a little bit better.

 

Stiles watched him look over the figure for a few moments, then he spoke, softly and a little embarrassed. “I want you to have it.”

 

Derek shot his head up to look at Stiles, then back down to the bird. He wondered if it was his mother's...

 

“Stiles... I.” He frowned. “I don't know if I should... if it belonged to your mother...”

 

Stiles shook his head, taking Derek's other hand in his, giving it a light squeeze, then closing it over the top of the bird. “I want you to.” He smiled. “I promise, it's alright. It's one of mine.” He chuckled, blush rushing back to his cheeks. “I just felt like... I had to give you something special, something for you to... remember me by.” 

 

Derek's heart tugged, and the incubus inside of him seemed stunned. Derek looked down at his hands, at their hands, where Stiles was still holding his together, then looked up and nodded.

 

Stiles grinned, eyes lighting up in a way that sort of took Derek's breath away. _Huh..._ Derek thought. _Maybe... my parents weren't wrong after all..._

 

The thought hung around for a few seconds longer than he usually let it, before he dismissed it again. True love and mates... He didn't believe they existed. No matter how much his heart did back flips over Stiles.

 

 

Roughly an hour later, Derek was back home, feeling full and satisfied in more ways than just the food in his stomach. He could tell we was practically glowing, from more than the incubus' effect of making his skin flush and healthy. He felt like he could sing, dance, scream even. His first date had gone well, more than well, actually.

 

He smiled down at the bird in his hand; he couldn't quite believe yet that Stiles would take him someplace that seemed so special, and give him something like this, when Stiles hardly knew him.

 

Derek hummed to himself; he wasn't quite sure, but he felt like he had to return the favor, find something just as special to give back. He just settled the bird down on his nightstand when he phone went off in his pocket.

 

Derek settled down on the bed, peeling his shirt up over his head and digging his phone out. He pulled off his jeans and tossed them to the side as he pulled up his messages in his phone. He grinned, seeing the text from Stiles.

 

_'Had a great time. Can't wait to see you again. Maybe sometime tomorrow if you're free? ;)'_

 

Derek felt like his heart was swelling ten times it's size. He sent back a quick text before falling back onto the mattress. Even when he was drifting into sleep, he couldn't get rid of the smile that felt like it was splitting his face.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek and Stiles' relationship is going along beautifully, until it hits one little speed bump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, look, drama. Sadness. Angst. What happens every time I start a story out fluffy and cute. 
> 
> Also, pay no attention of the new rating. 
> 
> Also, new chapter already, don't expect this all the time.

The rest of the week passed in much of the same fashion; Stiles and Derek would text each other constantly, and always find some way to meet up every day. Derek had never felt this healthy and full on a constant basis since he'd been home, and even then, this felt even better.

 

So of course, there would be something that would come along to mess it all up.

 

“Hey, Der.” Stiles smiled, striding across the coffee shop, arms open. Derek grinned right back, and pulled Stiles to his body. The boy breathed deep, then sighed, like he'd just come home after a long, terrible trip. Then, it happened.

 

Stiles' body shifted, just right, and he brushed up right against Derek's crotch, sending the zap of electricity through his whole body, and the incubus, which had been so content in being touched and hugged by Stiles, came roaring through his veins, demanding Derek to fling Stiles down onto the closest table and fuck him until they both couldn't breathe.

 

Derek froze, squeezing his eyes shut, knowing full well they'd be glowing an inhuman blue, and keeping his lips sealed knowing his teeth were growing behind them.

 

Stiles paused, shifting away a little. “Derek?” He asked, tone worried. “What's wrong? You look sick.”

 

He didn't answer. He couldn't. Stiles would know. He couldn't know. Despite how much it hurt Derek to do this, he ripped himself out of Stiles' hold, and spun around for the door and left. He sprinted away as fast as his legs could carry him. He hoped the run would exhaust him, would let the incubus' hunger dwindle a little but, by the time he got home, it was still chanting in his head.

 

“Take him, fuck him, claim him. He's ours, he belongs to _us_ , claim him before someone takes what's ours. Make him _writhe_ , make him come until he can't speak, until he can't _breath_ , fuck him fuck him _fuckhim_.”

 

Derek heaved, shakily locking the door behind him. He kept screaming at it to shut up, but right now, his voice was so much smaller, so much weaker than the incubus'. He fell to his knees, shuddering and shaking. He'd just have to release, hope that just living it through in his mind would be enough.

 

On trembling limbs Derek crawled into his bedroom, he peeling off the too hot clothes clinging to his body, and fell in a pile of limbs on the bed. He didn't bother with the lube hidden in the top drawer of his nightstand, he was leaking more than enough to suffice.

 

He closed his eyes, took himself in hand, and for once, he let his brain go where it wanted to go.

 

 

“Fuck me.” Stiles groaned, completely bare below Derek, his pale, dotted skin flushing a dark red all over. His hips couldn't stop thrusting, his hard dick bouncing with each shaky rise.

 

Brilliant blue light cast over Stiles body, and Derek knew it was from him, his eyes burning bright from the arousal that pumped through him so hard it made him a little dizzy. He hissed, licking up Stiles' sweaty, soft belly, coming to a stop at his chest and growling before he clamped on to a nipple. Stiles cried, back arching into Derek, as he licked and sucked and bit on the sensitive nub.

 

While he was distracted with that, Derek trailed slick fingers to Stiles' backside. He hitched one of the younger man's legs over his hip, to help open him up a little more, and grinned around Stiles' flushed flesh as he found his swollen opening.

 

“Derek!” Stiles screamed, shaking, and it was only a few thrusts of Derek's expert fingers, before he just brushed over Stiles' prostate, and the boy was coming, sobbing.

 

Derek leaned back, licking his lips, taking in the visage below him. Stiles' skin, slick with sweat and spit, and red, his chest actually bleeding from the abuse Derek inflicted on it. He was coated in his own release, his stomach muscles twitching nonstop beneath the mess, and his hole clinging greedily to three of Derek's thick fingers.

 

_I can't do this._

 

Derek swallowed, looking over the fantasy that the incubus had made. This wasn't right. He shouldn't... be so rough. Stiles was only human. If Derek treated him like that Stiles wouldn't survive. He'd... He'd die.

 

Derek jerked his hand away from his softening erection, the incubus' chanting completely dying away. He stared down over his clean stomach and shook his head, he couldn't do this. What was he thinking, getting involved with a human. Nothing good could come from it.

 

Blonde hair flashed through his mind, hazel eyes that held dark, hidden intentions behind them, a cruel smile on pretty lips as his body throbbed in agony.

 

Stiles... wasn't like that. Derek shuddered, all traces of arousal completely gone. He felt sick now, with himself, and from the memories crashing through his head. He wobbled over to the bathroom, all his energy he'd gained from the week vanished. A look in the mirror revealed just what he expected. He looked like he was close to death, or already there. His skin was white, and bruised looking, his eyes devoid of any life and the skin around them dark and puffy. He looked gaunt, like he hadn't eaten in a month. He sighed, splashing some cool water over his face and plopping onto the floor in front of the sink. He didn't have much strength left to hold himself up.

 

 _Good._ He thought, pulling his knees up and tucking his head between them, trying to fight of the nausea making his head spin. Maybe this time he'd actually give up and die...

 

 

It felt like days later, when really it'd only been a few hours, when there was a knock on the door. It was panicked, just a little too loud for this time of night. Derek groaned. He felt like if he moved he'd be sick.

 

“Derek?”

 

He froze. Lifting his head up from his knees, Derek got up shakily to his feet, he had to hold onto the bathroom counter in order to stay up for more than a few seconds. He listened, wondering if the first time had just been his imagination.

 

“Derek, it's me. It's Stiles. Let me in, please.”

 

 _Oh no._ Derek swallowed. _Stiles._

 

 _He can't see me like this._ He looked over himself in the mirror now. He definitely looked less than human. Being in this terribly weak state had left him little energy to push down the incubus. His eyes were that eerie blue, and still had a soft glow to them, and his teeth were definitely inhuman, two pairs of long fangs settled just behind his canines.

 

“I talked to Erica.” Stiles muttered, and Derek's heart went cold. She wouldn't... “I was so worried... after you left. I knew Erica knew you, so I had to find her.” He laughed softly. “Who knew we lived in the same complex, right?” He trailed off, then cleared his throat. “She didn't tell me what was wrong.” Derek let out a breath. “But she did tell me that... we needed to talk.”

 

 _Great._ Derek slumped against the wall. He probably should've seen this coming. Eventually... Stiles would find out. Derek just forever avoiding the inevitable wouldn't have worked. He of all people should've known that, with his track record on luck.

 

Might as well get it over with. Derek huffed, letting go of the counter. He took one step into the bedroom, and then he couldn't. He collapsed, to weak to even make it to the door. Just the few steps from the bathroom mirror to the doorway completely drained him of the little energy he had.

 

“Stiles.” He croaked. He couldn't get to the door, he'd never be able to get there.

 

“Derek?! Oh thank god.” Stiles sounded so relieved. “Derek, just let me in, please, we can talk-”

 

“I can't.” Derek cut Stiles off, and was met with silence.

 

“Oh.” Stiles said, finally, after a few minutes. “I-I see.”

 

“No, Stiles.” Derek jumped in again. He definitely did not want Stiles getting that impression. Just those three words Stiles sounded so sad and dejected. “I mean... I _can't_. I-I can't move.”

 

There were a few beats of silence, then a light thump against the door. “Okay.” Stiles' voice was steady, but Derek could feel the overwhelming worry pouring from the boy from the other side of the door. There were another few seconds of quiet, then Derek could hear Stiles' moving. “Do you have an extra key?”

 

Derek breathed. He looked down over his body and frowned. Maybe he could crawl over to his pants and get them on before Stiles found it. “Yeah.” He grunted as he moved, making his way slowly over the floor. “Above the door, underneath the nine.”

 

“Got it.” Derek was still struggling with reaching his clothes when he heard the key enter the lock. Stiles paused then. “Do you want me to come in yet?”

 

Derek hesitated. There was a room inbetween the door and his bedroom but... he didn't want to risk Stiles seeing him like this. Still... Derek looked across the room to his pants, it felt like a marathon's distance between them. He forgot the pants and reached up to his bed, pulling the bedclothes from it and draping them over his body. “Okay.” Derek called. “Come in.”

 

He heard the door open, heard the spare key being put down on the entry table, and he smelled Stiles scent pouring into the apartment.

 

“Derek?” Stiles called. “Where are you?” He heard footsteps, and lay prone beneath his blankets, and beneath the overwhelming scent blanketing him much better, and then heard a soft intake of breath. He glanced to the doorway to see Stiles, looking over him. “Der...”

 

Derek felt warm bloom through him at the nickname. He already felt a little bit of his strength return from Stiles' closeness. He closed his eyes, breathing deep. Stiles' voice followed him, as he drifted off, the events of the day finally catching up to him.

 

“Der... It's okay.” Gentle hands lifted his head onto a warm, soft lap. “You're alright now.”

 

Despite how much Derek wanted to protest that he wasn't, he'd never be, because of what he was... he believed Stiles. He smiled softly, turning his head to the soft skin of Stiles' wrist and pressing his lips uncoordinated to his pulse. He was alright now.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The previous chapter, from Stiles' POV.

“Derek?” Derek was stiff under Stiles' hands, his body feeling like it was held up by steel instead of bone. Stiles pulled back, looking over Derek's face. He looked pale, much like he did that very first time Stiles saw him. He wondered if he should let go, remembering how Derek jump at his touch that last time he was like this. Derek's eyes were squeezed shut, along with his lips being pressed tightly together. “What's wrong? You look sick.”

 

Derek shuddered in his hands, then suddenly tore away from him, spinning around to the door and racing down the street. “Derek?!” Stiles ignored the question looks he was getting from the other patrons of the cafe and ran out after him.

 

Derek must've been sprinting away, because Stiles couldn't find him anywhere. _Dammit, where'd he go?_ He didn't feel safe leaving Derek by himself, especially when he looked so terrible. _What if there's something really wrong with him?_

 

Swallowing, Stiles broke off down the street, going the way he thought he saw Derek go out the door. He kept an eye out, but there was absolutely no sign of the older man anywhere. After running around for roughly an hour, Stiles stopped, bending over and bracing his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “Dammit, Derek. Where are you?”

 

He sucked in a deep breath and straightened up, letting it all out as he took in his surroundings. He was close to the little restaurant they had their first date... Huh. Our waitress that night knew him, didn't she. He walked down the street, wracking his brain for her name as he looked for the cafe.

 

Erica. That was it. He opened the door to the store and looked around. A young girl, maybe just a year out of high school, looked up at him and smiled. “Hi, just one?”

 

He shook his head. “Um, no. I was wondering if you could help me.” He walked over to her. “Is Erica here?”

 

She hummed. “No, she doesn't start until five.” _Dammit,_ Stiles thought, _that's too long. I need to find Derek now._ He must've been showing his worry clearly, because the girl clicked her tongue and motioned for him to come closer. “I have her number. You can call her and ask her to help you with whatever you need...” She smiled. “You seem really worried about it.”

 

He swallowed and nodded, taking the scrap of paper she'd scribbled the number on. “Thank you.” He pulled his phone out and dialed in the number, stepping away a little. It rang a few times before it was picked up, a familiar voice answering on the other line. “Erica? It's Stiles, Derek's...”

 

“I remember.” She answered, her voice knowing. “Something happened, didn't it?”

 

“Y-yeah.” He looked back at the hostess and nodded his thanks before leaving. “He ran off on me. We were hugging and all of the sudden he looked really sick and then he just ran off. I want to make sure he's okay.”

 

She hummed knowingly. “I figured this would happen.”

 

“You know what's wrong with him?” _Oh please, let him be okay._

 

“Yes, but... I think you should hear it from him. He wouldn't want me to tell you.” She chuckled softly. “Besides, I don't think you'd believe it unless you saw it.” He heard rustling in the background. “I can give you his address, since I'm sure that's where he's ended up.” She paused a moment, then when she spoke next, her tone was extremely serious. “What you see there, Stiles, might... be surprising. I can't tell you exactly what you'll find when you get there, but you can't overreact. Just... be supportive. And let him tell you when he's ready. Don't force him.”

 

Stiles nodded, a little dazed by her words. _What's wrong with him...?_ “Okay, I know.” He breathed out. “I just... want to see him, make sure he's alright.”

 

Erica was quiet for a few moments, then she huffed out a quiet, pleased laugh. “Alright. Here's his building. He's on the top floor, just make sure to let him know it's you. I can't tell you how aware he'll be when you get there.”

 

 

Stiles parked his jeep and looked up to the building. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his pounding heart before he left. It didn't help much. _I just want to see him..._ He shook off his nerves and stepped out of the jeep and ran over to the entrance. He rushed into the lift, glad it was quick getting there, and pressed the button for the top floor.

 

Getting there, it was easy to tell which room was Derek's, considering there was only one on the entire floor. He walked over to the door, the number 901 hanging above it, and knocked lightly at first. No answer. He paused, remember Erica's words. _Maybe he couldn't hear me... she said she couldn't tell how aware he is..._ His heart thumped, thinking about Derek, lost to the world, hurting...

 

He knocked harder and called. “Derek?”

 

There was silence again. Stiles listened harder, and he could just pick up the sound of heavy breathing. _He's alive!_ “Derek, it's me. It's Stiles. Let me in, please.” He knew he sounded like he was pleading, but he didn't care. He wanted to hold Derek, see and _feel_ that he was alright. “I talked to Erica.” Stiles muttered, he heard a soft intake of breath at that.“I was so worried... after you left. I knew Erica knew you, so I had to find her.” He huff a soft laugh, remember Erica's parting words – “If you need to talk to me again, you can find me at our complex, whatever you need, I'll help anyway I can.” - “Who knew we lived in the same complex, right?” He trailed off, then cleared his throat. His stupid mouth, running away from him again. “She didn't tell me what was wrong.” He looked up slowly, pressing his hand to the door, hoping it would open. “But she did tell me that... we needed to talk.”

 

There was silence for a little while longer, and Stiles dropped his hand. _He's not going to even acknowledge me... is he?_ He stepped away from the door, feeling like his heart was sinking down toward his feet. _I just ruin everything, don't I...?_ He turned to go back to the elevator when he heard a rough, quiet voice from the apartment.

 

“Stiles...”

 

“Derek?!” Stiles rushed right back to the door, pressing against it. “Oh thank god. Derek, just let me in, please, we can talk-”

 

“I can't.”

 

Stiles words dried up, catching in his throat painfully. He pressed his head to the door and looked to his feet, trying not to feel hurt and failing. “Oh.” He bit his lip, blinking the blurring tears out of his eyes. “I-I see.”

 

“No, Stiles.” Derek sounded a little panicked. Stiles lifted his head back up. “I mean... I _can't_. I-I can't move.”

 

 _Oh, Derek. Why couldn't he move?_ Stiles' brain went into overdrive, throwing various scenarios that would lead to Derek being unable to move. He pressed his forehead back to the cool door, trying to cool himself off. “Oh.” _I need to get in there. I need to see him, make sure he's okay. Make him okay._ He glanced around, backing off from the door. “Do you have an extra key?”

 

“Yeah, above the door.” Stiles reached over the door frame, feeling the key resting on it just below the '9' indicating the apartment number.

 

“Got it.” He shoved the key into the door, and was just about to turn it and rush in when he stopped. _I want to take this slow, wait until he tells me..._ “Do you want me to come in yet?”

 

There was quiet, then the sound of rustling inside that Stiles could just barely hear. There were a few thumps, then Derek's raspy voice calling. “Okay. Come in.”

 

Stiles took a breath, to steel himself, and opened the door. No sign of Derek immediately. Stiles shut the door behind him, set the spare on the table by the door, and walked a little ways in. “Derek?” Stiles called, making his way to a doorway where he thought he could smell that sweet scent that always clung to Derek coming from. “Where are you?”

 

He passed through the doorway, and was just barely able to stop the gasp of surprise from leaving him. “Der...” Derek was laying on the floor, looking like a completely different person. Not even human, really. His eyes were electric blue, rather than their usual green/gray hazel color, and glowing weakly. He had sharp looking teeth keeping his mouth open, too long to have with his mouth closed. His skin was as close to white as he'd ever seen it, and the skin around his eyes was bruised, making him look like he'd just gotten into a fight and lost horribly.

 

Derek glanced up at him, and gave a little smile. That smile, that was familiar. That smile that seemed almost involuntary, a little bit like Derek didn't even realize he was doing it, just because of Stiles.

 

Stiles crossed the way to him, settling on his heels, and gently lifted Derek's head up into his lap. “Der... it's okay.” Stiles pet Derek's head, brushing his fingers lightly through his hair, damp with sweat. “You're alright now.”

 

Derek gave a little huff, and drifted off to sleep. Stiles smiled, skating his thumb over Derek's eyebrow, grinning when he saw the man's lips twitch into his sleep. _It's still Derek there, he's just... different._

 

Stiles was interested to hear what Derek was going to tell him, then. _I wonder if he thought he could keep this from me for long..._ He noticed with the petting Derek's color was already starting to come back, and the otherworldly features were slowly melting away. “What are you...?” Stiles whispered to himself.

 

He knows he should probably be scared but... he couldn't imagine being scared of Derek, no matter what he was. 

 


End file.
